The Seventh Deadly Sin

Desire: Deciphering the Secret

"THERE'S A LOT OF MYSTERY IN THIS WORLD, AND IF YOU ALREADY HAD THE CHANCE TO DECODE THEM, YOU FOUND YOURSELF TRAPPED INSIDE OF IT INSTEAD,"

- DARIUS SIN

HIS DARK GRAY EYES stared intently at my blue ones, brushing my blonde hair away from my cheeks before touching the edge of my ears, taunting me thoroughly while fixing his stare in a dark and pleading one.

"Because I don't want you to become one of them, Mary Jane—You're different." He whispered sadly against my ears.

I looked at Dominic's eyes and saw an angel, seeming to be gentle and soft. Still, his firm and protective stance left second thoughts in my own perspective.

"Why did you want to protect me?" I thought out loud while staring at him; his saddened eyes turned into a thoroughly pitying stare.

"I've never cared for anyone before. But seeing a person so soft and fragile, living under those with dark-hearted souls," he trailed off, putting a cold and moist strawberry inside my mouth. I ate it, and his thin, rosy lips curved delightedly, caressing the strands of my hair. Dominic's stare suddenly turned greedy and dead serious.

"Are you afraid of demons?"

I froze and stared at him. Suddenly, the red eyes and pale complexion flashed across my mind, those fearful, strange happenings that have been going on lately, "I don't know yet," I said weakly, becoming frightened as shivers crawled up against my skin. He noticed my alarmed state, but he continued on asking.

"Would you stand living with them?"

"No, I wouldn't." I stuttered, "They are dark creatures that should never step on our world. And I despise them."

He stared at me amusedly, like a teacher who teaches his students.

"Would you accept it if the people you loved are actually the ones who are trying to kill you? Catching you on their little trap hidden beneath their smile," he said coldly. Displease by the message of his sentence, like he didn't want it to happen.

"I don't know yet. I don't know anyone or anything with the same motive. But I didn't like the idea of it."

"Then why are you here? In a school where devils raise their children," his gray eyes darkened, and he stood up, staring at my frightened state, wiping the tears from my cheeks with his warm, long fingers, embracing my petite frame, comforting me. "Don't cry, Mary. I can't just watch till you're getting closer to their trap...so if I were to ask, would you let me protect you?"

I nodded weakly and hugged Dominic tighter, crying on his shoulders as he soothed me gently. "Just follow what I say, and you'll survive."

THE COLD HALLWAY leading towards either of our dorms has never been pleasant. I wrapped my hands in Dominic's, and he didn't seem to be bashed and displeased by the action. Grasping my hands possessively—Our hands have an electrifying attraction. Still, I tried to put it away from my thoughts and spoke with my softest tone, "I'm sorry if you're feeling obligated; I promise that after I find a way to face my fear. I won't bother you again. "

Dominic didn't respond and pursued walking, putting his left hand inside his pocket before the silence assumed us. It was almost quarter to nine, and almost all the students were already inside their dorms, following the curfew rules prohibiting them from roaming past eight-thirty.

I pointed in the direction where my room was located because after we talked earlier, I noticed that I had to grab some fresh clothes in my own room before taking his offer to have a single night in his dorm. When we finally stood before my door, I excused myself and got in, taking the necessary equipment from my closet—I grabbed my hair comb and nightgown when something fell off.

I curiously took it and saw a painting of a gentle angel with dark and hungry devils beneath her. My eyes stared keenly, and I turned the picture.

You are who you are

Turn the picture

See the words,

Prophetic scribes

Next time, you'll see,

Amidst the pages

There's an answer for red.

I reread the words repeatedly, shivers running down my neck. I had never seen this picture here before, and someone might have put it inside. And I...was never here for the past two days...

There was a moment of silence before Dominic called me, hiding the picture inside my pocket before gathering all my clothes and necessities and walking out of my room.

Dominic didn't ask, but he kept glancing as his eyes were fixated on an unreadable expression.

WE STAND IN FRONT of the last door here in Mastema; his hand is still wrapped firmly against mine before his other hand unlocks the door. His long fingers pushed the door gently before my eyes gleamed with its lure—The room was painted dark red, and the lower half of the wall was covered with a smooth texture of wood. The other furniture was themed with enticing heat, and the bed was too large, larger than the king-sized bed. Blending in with the room with a red color and smooth layers of bedsheets, the room was designed with dark and pleasure.

Dominic placed his warm hands on my back before his gray eyes softened. " Shall we," he asked, but his voice sounded firm and demanding. We entered his room before my eyes wandered to the details, and each time I looked, the more intrigued I became.

"You can shower in my bathroom," he said, settling down my uniform and other nightgowns inside his closet. I nodded absentmindedly and took my white nightgown, towel, toothbrush, and hair comb before proceeding to his bathroom. It was dim, and the only light was the small spherical candles lined up neatly, accompanied by the red roses and the scent of citrus fruit.

I turn the tap and let the warm driblets of water fill the bathtub, settling down my things and removing my clothes. I slowly raised my right foot on top of the warm water and made sure that the water was enough to turn it off before I hopped in, relaxing my state.

After bathing, I prepare myself and put on my nightgown, staring at my reflection while brushing my blonde hair; you are who you are. Turn the pages, see the words, prophetic scribes; next time you see, amidst the pages, there's an answer for red—What does that mean? And who is the person responsible for putting it? My eyes began to feel heavy, and I made my final brush before leaving the bathroom. The bed was already prepared, but I curiously glanced at Dominic, laying his head on the sofa while reading a thick maroon book; his whole demeanor was illuminated by the warm flickers of the fireplace.

I sat on his bed, but he didn't move on his sofa. His right hand was curling under his chin, and his soft raven hair flowed amidst his action.

"Are you going to sleep together with me on your bed?" I asked, putting my hands on the bedsheet; soft and silk with warm temperature. Dominic didn't spare a glance and continued scanning the book.

"I shouldn't sleep in the same bed as a woman,"

"Why not,"

"Because something might happen, and we didn't want that as early as now." He spoke softly, running his fingers through his hair.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, and that's when he breathed deeply and put down his book, walking in my direction before cupping both of my cheeks. His long eyelashes contrasted with the dull yellow lamp behind me, deep and mysterious simultaneously. "You should sleep now; it's already ten," he whispered, laying me on his soft, large bed before turning off the lamp.

I stared at Dominic, and his warm, long fingers made their way through my hair. He leaned closer before placing a gentle kiss on top of my forehead, remembering that it was a kiss of respect.